


Flower Eyed Girl

by scarletcarsonK



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Please read
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-26
Updated: 2014-12-26
Packaged: 2018-03-03 16:33:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,197
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2857583
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scarletcarsonK/pseuds/scarletcarsonK





	Flower Eyed Girl

The Flower Eyed Girl  
Garth’s face was stretched into a smile that Dean knew would bring more trouble than it was worth. He filled Sam and Dean’s glasses with a smooth amber liquid before topping off a tiny shots’ worth of his own.   
Sam smiled at Garth: “So, what’s all this about?” He tipped his glass to Garth before taking a sip. “I didn’t know you were into the hard stuff, Garth.”  
Garth grinned. “It ain’t for me, you idjit. It’s--” His face turned down into a frown. “Well don’t that just take it all.” He picked up the glass and stared dubiously at its contents.  
Dean downed his and felt the sweet relief coat his throat and pour down into his stomach. It warmed him up for what felt like the first time in several months. “You know, staring at it won’t make it drink itself.”  
“I know.” Garth’s face was almost comically glum in the perfect style that only Garth could encapsulate. He put down the glass and rubbed his hands together. “Bess,” He called out to his wife, who was somewhere in the kitchen. “What time are we getting to?”  
“’Bout six thirty. She here yet?” There was a sound of the oven door opening and closing. Bess whistled out a low breath that echoed off in their sitting room.  
Garth’s words hit him full on. “‘She’—who’s coming?” He glanced over at Sam, whose face reflected his same level of confusion. Garth reached down for his glass and took a sip.  
“Gosh. That stuff’ll rip a hole right down your throat, eh?” He took another microscopic sip and his face flushed beet red. “So, guys, I was hunting a pretty mellow spirit out in Maine last week, and the darndest this happened,” He held up his hands to preface his next statement. “It was killing over grass.”  
“Grass?” Sam took another sip of his drink. “Like, ‘mow-the-grass’ kind of grass, or grass-grass?”  
Bess poked her head in through the gap in the swinging kitchen door. “Honey bunch, can you hold this door for me?”  
Garth leapt straight up out of his chair to hold the swinging door open for her. In her hands was a large turkey that glistened and steamed. Dean’s stomach growled.  
“Whoa, Bess, you didn’t have to do all this.” Sam and Dean both stood.   
Bess laid the turkey down on the middle of the table, and then stood back to wipe a little bit of sweat off her face. She looked over at Garth and smiled, “It’s gonna be a while before I’m going to do that again.”  
Garth paled. “Are you okay?”  
Sam and Dean exchanged a look. “Is everything alright?”  
Bess flashed a radiant smile at them. “Of course it is. Now, I don’t want to start too early, but she normally shows up just after we say grace. So, if you two wouldn’t mind sitting, Garth and I will bring in the last of the plates.” She pulled out a chair directly in front of the turkey and beamed at Dean. “Come on, Dean, sit.”   
He tried to smile at Bess, but a leaden weight laid in his stomach. Sam pulled out the chair across the table from Dean.   
“Thank you so much for dinner, Bess.” He frowned at Dean when Bess smiled, so that Dean would echo his brother back to her.  
“Yeah, thank you, Bess.”  
“You two are so sweet. It’s no wonder Garth wanted you all to come up for our Sunday dinner.” She leaned forward and stage-whispered, “If we eat strategically, we’ll be able to watch the football game later in the evening. I made an apple pie just for the occasion.” Dean faked a smile that Bess blessedly ignored as she and Garth headed back through the swinging door into the kitchen.  
Dean leaned across the table and whispered at Sam. “We have to go now.”  
Sam sighed and began to unfold his napkin. “Calm down. It doesn’t mean that it’s her.”  
“Turkey? Pie?” He held up the cloth napkin. “Nice napkin things? Either Garth’s planning Thanksgiving a month early, or Rose Kline is going to come walking through that door.” He pointed at the door, as if Sam couldn’t understand his meaning.  
“You’re paranoid.”  
“Am I?” He snapped back. “These are all of her favorite things. And I haven’t seen Garth this jittery—well, he’s always this jittery—but tonight is something with a whole extra heaping of weird. Think about it—why else would he invite us to dinner? We should go before things get worse.”  
Sam scoffed, “You like pie and turkey. So what if she liked it too? It’s not like there’s--” Bess came into the room with a big pitcher of lemonade and set it down next to an empty plate. “—lemonade.” Sam cleared his throat. “Um, Bess,” She straightened the pitcher so that the handle was facing towards Sam. “Bess, there are six plates at the table. Dean and I are the only guests here.”  
“Hmm?” Bess was clearly not paying attention. “Yes, there’re six plates. One for each of us.” She straightened a bowl of peas that Garth brought out and placed on the table. When the slab of butter melting on top of it was perfectly centered, she looked up at Sam. “What’s wrong, Sam?” She glanced over at Garth. “Didn’t Garth tell you who all’s coming?”  
Garth cleared his throat and smiled at them. “I didn’t know how you all would react.”  
Dean was already grabbing his jacket from off of his chair. “Garth, I know that you mean well, but this is not necessary.”  
“Castiel’s invited too!” He threw up his hands like it was a surprise. “And, um, maybe Rose, but only if she drops in.” He smiled. “She’s awful on timing. We had to invite her a full two hours early so that maybe she’d actually show up for dinner.”   
Sam looked down at his plate. “Oh.”   
“Don’t worry about it,” Garth slurred his words. “I got this all figured out.”  
Dean stood and started to put on his jacket. “So you’re playing Matchmaker? Garth, you can’t just trick people into coming over for dinner. That’s really low, especially for you.” He pushed in his chair in and tried not to look at Bess’ stricken face. “Come on, Sam.”  
Sam didn’t move.  
“Come on, Sam.” Now he looked over at his brother, who sat there with his arms crossed. “Sam,” His statement turned into a plea. “Let’s not do this now.”  
Sam leaned onto the table. “One dinner wouldn’t kill either of you.”  
Dean rolled his eyes. “After how we left it, I’d be surprised if she didn’t come in ready to kill us.”  
Sam put his napkin on his lap. “She’d only want to kill you. If you want to go to the motel, you can. If Rose and Cas are coming, I’m not going to flake.” He brought out the puppy dog eyes that played Dean like a Stradivarius. “It’s been months, Dean. It’s time that you see each other. Please,”  
Dean pulled back his chair, “If she starts something, I’m not going to be liable for it. Got it?”  
Sam rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. “Fine. Now, can you please, sit down?”  
Dean sat down roughly. “But if she starts--”  
Sam put up his hands. “Enough. We don’t even know if she’s coming, right?” He looked over to Garth for some help.  
Garth was slow on the uptake. “Oh? Oh! Yeah, yeah, she might not come. That’s never happened as long as I’ve known her, but she could not show up.”  
Dean put his napkin on his lap after Sam’s example. “Peachy,”   
“Peachy keen, Dean.” Rose’s voice whispered into his mind. He nodded at Bess’ pleasantries and even folded his hands to say grace, but his mind was anywhere but on his food. It was a bad laugh track that played in his mind, always starting off on a random tidbit or thing that she would have said before jumping off into a grand loop of the little things that Rose used to do before she they had split.   
Sam seemed to be affected too by what Dean had said before grace. After Bess and Garth began to dig in to their plates, the two brothers were silent.  
Garth cleared his throat. “So, I’ll start dishing the plates with turkey down at my end, and then we can pass everyone’s plates around in a circle so that we all can get our food into our bellies as quick as a wink.” He beamed over at Bess, who sat at the other end of the table. “Sweetie, this looks perfect.”  
Bess smiled nervously back at Garth. “Thank you, sweetie.” She looked at Dean with a tentative smile. “Dean, can you pass me your plate? I’ll get you started on some peas.”  
Dean forced himself to smile again at Bess, hating the scared look that she returned to him. “Thank you,”   
Bess heaped up an enormous spoonful of peas before sending them to shower down all over his plate. “Whoopsie-daisy, those just went everywhere, didn’t they?” She giggled until the look on Dean’s face shushed her into silence again. She passed Dean’s plate in a long reach over to Sam, who put a scoop of mashed potatoes in the sea of peas.  
“Garth tells me that you boys just took down a whole nest of vampires in Mississippi. How did that go?” She snuck a loose pea into her mouth a tried to beam again.   
Sam looked swept away by the effort to make his voice appear normal. It was too loud for Dean’s liking. “Yeah, we just came up from there on our way back home when we got your call,”  
“Did you notice any weird hunters going after it?” Garth passed Dean another loaded plate which he passed along to Bess. Sam’s response was garbled in Dean’s mind.  
Of course he still saw the long table with Garth smiling at one end and Bess smiling at another. The aroma from the food wafted into his nose—all scents from the Thanksgiving dinners that he and Sam and their dad had never had together. And, to take the cake, Thanksgiving was still a month away. His stomach growled in a half-assed sort of way. The loop that Rose’s name set into his mind was playing, and on the worst memory that he could stomach.   
She walked away with the light of another car throwing her body into sharp relief. Rose had struggled with her heavy duffel bag, but he had been too pissed to care that Rose needed him. The news that while he had been out she had actually summoned Crowley, a demon whom she hated more than she had a passion for anything that he had ever seen, and tried to make a deal—for Dean, of all people—made him sick with anger.  
“Leave?” Her voice was taught. A thousand thoughts flew through his mind, half wanting to take back what he had said, and the others that wanted her to reside as far away from him as possible. She had wanted to switch places with him—to have taken his place in that witch’s house of horrors, and probably while missing her soul to boot. Thoughts seemed to rocket through Rose’s mind too; her face settled after a moment. “I’ll leave.”   
On the table, a phone began to vibrate and croon: “She ain’t got no money, her clothes—they’re kinda funny, her hair is kind of wild and free--”  
Sam and Dean exchanged a look. Sam was more bemused than embarrassed. There was a little bit of a sparkle back in Sam’s eye that Dean had almost forgotten about. It was a kind of mischievous energy that had kind of died after she left; he wanted to throw up.  
“Oh but love grows where my Rosemary goes and nobody knows--”  
Garth picked up the phone and slid the call on. He stood while grimacing at his wife. “Well, speak of the devil, Rose, I’m loving the song you put on my phone.”  
The volume was turned up really loud, so Rose’s voice rang unnaturally loud. “Hey, Garth—I’m not going to be able to make it tonight. I’m stuck in Illinois overnight.”  
Garth walked over to the front door and threw it open. “Well, your astral projection project worked out, because I can see your car going down the street.”  
Sam snorted and shoveled some mashed potatoes in his face. “Smooth,”  
Rose was silent for a moment. “Why didn’t you tell me that they’re here?”   
Dean felt his face burn. So she wanted to avoid him too. Fancy that. He stabbed at his turkey with his fork.  
Garth lowered his voice so Dean had to watch his lips move to hear what he said: “Rose, just come back. It’s just a bunch of friends eating turkey together.”  
Dean switched his gaze over to Sam so that he wouldn’t have to hear Rose’s voice again, at least for a few minutes. Sam’s gaze was focused over towards Garth, who had moved to stand in front of the doorway with one arm leaning against the frame. “Please.” Garth’s voice was earnest. “Bess and I need to talk to you ‘bout something.”  
“Garth--” Her voice firmed. ”Fine, you manipulative bastard, I’m coming.”   
Garth’s grin rang through to his words. “Peachy!” He turned off the call, and called back to Bess, “She’s coming.”  
“Great,” Dean muttered. His appetite had left him completely, so he watched Sam chow away. Sam seemed to be in a sick eating contest with himself; he shoveled the mashed potatoes down as if Bess had threatened to take it away. “Dude, do you have to eat like that? You’re going to make yourself sick.”  
“Dude,” Sam muttered back. “If you don’t eat, you’ll get crankier.” He pointed at Dean’s plate with his fork. “At least get a full stomach before you ruin the evening.”  
“I’m not ruining anything.” He whispered at Sam. Bess made eye contact with him, and he picked up a bite with his fork. “It tastes great, Bess.”  
She beamed at him and glanced back at the door. Garth hadn’t returned, so he must have been leaning against the frame still.   
“Well, you’re a sight for sore eyes,” Garth called out the door. His volume lowered. “Um…you’re a sight, Rose.”   
He was leaning his arm into the table so firmly that it hurt. It probably left an imprint, but he was too stressed to care. The moments before she spoke felt like agony that he had forced himself to forget. The fact that she had spoken via the phone a minute before didn’t lessen his emotional bitchiness.   
“Hey, Garth.”   
His gut twisted, and he felt Sam glance at his face.   
“Calm down.” He mouthed at Dean.  
“Shut up.” Dean mouthed back.  
The glass door creaked when it swung open. It strained a little: Garth must have held the door open for her. A smile twitched at his lips. She was a diehard feminist, good luck with that.  
“Thanks,”   
It was a strange day’s night that he was experiencing: Dean needed a nap, another drink, and a blinding hangover to sear the image of Rosemary Kline out of his brain. When she stepped in through the front door, his eyes were automatically drawn to her.   
Her right arm was strapped to her chest in a homemade sling that looked like a bloody bit of a sweater. Dark brown hair fell down her back and into her eyes. One was swollen shut and a reddish black color that faded into the rest of her haggard face. On his upper lip, where he had often pressed his own, he saw a little cut. She was wearing one of his flannel shirts. That, or maybe it was one of Sam’s—at the moment, he didn’t give two shits.   
“Sam.” His brother turned around immediately stood. Sam’s frame blocked Rose from view, so Dean stood too, throwing his napkin on his still full plate.   
“Rose.” Sam said; she ignored him.  
“I come bearing gifts.” In her free hand was a large gift back where glass rattled inside when she gently shook it. “A lot of these need refrigeration and some need to be kept under a light, so I’ll help you put them away before I take off.”  
Garth held his arms open. “You look awful; I don’t know whether to hug you or--”  
“—Hit me?” She finished for him. The free hand that wasn’t in a sling opened her up to him. “Go ahead.”   
Garth smiled. “Rose, you’re so funny sometimes.” He took the bag from her and peeked inside. “Eye of newt?” He rustled deeper in the bag. “Hellsbane?” He reached in the bag and pulled out a vial: it was dark red. “Dead man’s blood?”   
She leaned in to squint at the label. “Um—that’s virgin’s.” She smiled at him. “I think there’s dean man’s blood in there too. But, you’ll never guess when virgin’s blood will come in handy. Plus, it’s usually a bitch to get. The guy I got this from was unusually reparable.”   
Garth lowered his voice, “Is there any silver?”  
“I wrapped it and put it at the bottom.”  
Garth grimaced. “You’re the best.” He changed the grimace to a smile and looked over at the Winchesters. “Aw, y’all don’t have to stand up for a lady.” He smiled at Bess. “Didn’t I tell you they were silly?”   
Dean looked over at Bess, who was assembling a plate heaped with food. “Rose, I got you a plate ready. Come and sit down and eat.” She glanced up at Rose. “Would you like some lemonade?”  
Rose glanced back at Garth, who nodded. “Uh—yes, yes please.” Rose sent quick glances up at Dean and Sam, both times stopping short of looking at their eyes. From the corner of his gaze, Dean saw Sam sink into his seat. Bess laid down the plate of heaping food across from him and to Sam’s right. Rose sat and Bess patted her good hand.   
“You’ve looked better, honey.”   
Rose tried to smile. “I’m okay, Bess. This looks delicious; is that gravy?”   
“Oh, yes, here.” Bess ladled a big spoonful over Rose’s entire plate. “Holler if you need anything else. Garth’s at that end and I’m at the other. And,” she glanced ruefully at Sam and Dean, “the boys can help you too.”   
Rose picked up her fork and took a little bite. “Garth, did you make this gravy?” She looked up and past Sam at Garth.   
Garth smiled, (when was he not smiling?) “Yes; is there enough salt?”  
Rose threw an exaggerated wink with her good eye at him. “It’s perfect.”  
Sam leaned over at her, “What happened to you?”   
Rose took another bite and didn’t look at him. “I just got off a hunt. How’re you?”  
“Psst, Dean.” He looked over at Garth who nodded his head at Dean’s chair. “Sit down,” Dean cocked an eyebrow, so Garth whispered again, louder, “Sit down.”  
“Don’t change the subject.” Sam snapped. “You look like hell.”  
“There’s a dent on your back bumper, you might want to fix it before you go out again.” She looked over at Bess, her eyes completely glossing over Sam. “Bess, did you two hear about those strange hunters in Mississippi? I heard someone hoodoo’ed an axe. Apparently, it was quite the thing. Got six calls about it.”  
Garth nodded. “Me too. Billy Thompson up in Wichita told me,” Garth started to giggle, “That he,” More giggling, “did levitation with a roll of paper towels.” Garth could not contain the laughter that he was barely containing the moment before and let out a belly laugh. “And I said, I said: ‘Billy, how’d you make it levitate?’ And he just, he just--” Garth completely lost his composure. Down the table, Bess laughed with him.  
Rose snorted and rolled her eyes. The black one seemed to swell more. “Well, Billy Thompson is damn idiot if I ever saw one.” She glanced over at Bess. “Remember him at your wedding? He tried to pick up your thirteen year-old cousin. I had to break his thumbs, he was so drunk.”  
Sam sighed in exasperation, leaned back, and then leaned forward again, “Rose, answer the question. What the hell happened to you?”  
Rose laughed hollowly and took a sip of her lemonade with her good, left hand, ignoring Sam’s face all the while. “I just got off of a hunt. No biggie.” Her hand shook a little on the table, but Sam ignored that. The bites that she was directing to her mouth shook too and she had to clear her throat a few more times than normal.   
Dean leaned back in his seat and took a big swig of his lemonade. It unfortunately lacked the sufficient amount of alcohol his body craved. “So, that’s it? ‘No biggie’ and you’re just going to sit there and drink your goddamn lemonade?”  
She took another sip of lemonade and looked across the table at him. Her eyes skirted past his chest and flitted over to the wall behind his head. “That’s it.” She put down her fork; her plate was still overgrowing with food.  
Bess clicked her tongue. “I don’t like the idea of you driving tonight on an empty stomach, Rose. Just eat some more turkey, please.”  
Rose nodded mechanically and put another miniscule bite in her mouth.  
Sam leaned back in his chair. “So what was it? Demons, shifters, a lycanthrope, what?”  
Garth and Bess stiffened. “Sam…” Garth began, but Rose held up her good hand.  
“Vampires, Sam.” She tripped over Sam’s name; maybe she hadn’t said it since they had last met. Maybe Sam still remembered how sour everything tasted after she decided to leave them, because he made a face.  
“Plural?” Sam raised his eyebrows. “Since when do you take on multiple vampires alone?”  
Now Rose looked pissed. “I wasn’t alone.”  
Bess perked up at the end of the table and began to wave her hand around. “What about that cute psychic boy you ran met in Albuquerque? Did he help you?”  
Rose put down her fork. “The hot psychic was in Denver.”  
His imagination pricked. Now she had a ‘hot’ guy that she left behind in Denver. He hadn’t expected her to remain a virgin forever, especially after their last time together. He could still feel her freezing thin hands exploring the skin on his chest.  
“You have a hot psychic dude now?”   
She picked up her fork again, but didn’t try to eat anything. “The word ‘have’ implies possession; besides, I don’t have time to date.” She picked at her mountain of mashed potatoes with her fork.   
“Well, that’s not entirely true.” Bess slid in.  
Rose put down her fork again. “So what is this big news that Garth was blowing up in my ear talking about?” Rose scratched at her good eye with a finger on her good hand. Sam stiffened.  
Dean cut in again—“What’s ‘not entirely’, Bess?” He put on his fake smile, so Bess relaxed under the heat of his gaze.  
Bess nodded at Rose, “I was just teasing her; not everyone gets a stalker.”  
“A stalker?” He made his smile bigger and focused his gaze over onto Rose. “Funny, Rose, we’ve never heard about that.”  
Sam leaned back and crossed his arms. “We really haven’t heard much of anything from you.”  
Dean mimicked Sam’s action. “So stalkers and vampires and--”  
“Tigers, lions, and bears, oh my!” Garth butted in in a desperate attempt to keep the peace. “Let’s calm down. No one has any stalkers and vampires, yes, Rose, how were the vampires that you hunted?”  
She swallowed heavily and looked over at him. Something odd was back in her gaze; she looked like she wanted to bolt for any and all of the exits. “Fantastic, I hardly remembered a better bunch. Garth…news, right?”   
Garth looked up at Bess. Dean saw them share a smile. “We—Bess and I—wanted to wait for everybody to get here before we share the big news. You can wait a little bit longer, can’t you?”  
Rose nodded mechanically. “Of course; who else is coming?” She glanced over at Dean’s plate and slid her eyes over to the empty place next to him.   
Garth took a big gulp of his lemonade before murmuring, “Just Cas.”  
Rose raised her eyebrow and scooted back her chair before standing. “Well, crap.” She looked up and over at Bess, still smiling like it hurt. “Thank you for the lovely meal, Bess, but I’d better skedaddle.”  
She turned in a jerky motion back towards Sam, then seemed to think better of speaking to him and turned back around to face Garth.  
“I don’t understand—why are you leaving?”  
Dean glanced over at Sam, who looked as confused as he did. “You have a beef with Cas?” Another thought crossed his mind. “Wait—is Cas your stalker?” Rose blushed and it was like someone twisted a knife in his gut. “Ew.”  
She shook her head, but still wouldn’t look him in the eye. “Don’t be stupid.” She clapped Garth on the shoulder, “I’m going to hit the ladies’ room before I go; thanks for the food.” She slipped behind Garth and began to climb up the stairs; her feet clunked heavily on the way up.  
Dean looked at Sam, “Dude, what the hell?”  
Sam shrugged. “Garth, does she have a problem with Cas?”  
Garth shrugged more exaggeratedly than Sam. “They’re together a lot of the time.” He looked over to his wife. “I don’t think they had a problem. It’s kind of weird that he didn’t follow her here already. You guys know more about Cas than I do. Has he been with you?”  
Sam glanced at Dean. “Well, we really wouldn’t know about either of them lately.” There was an edge in his tone that pricked Dean the wrong way.  
“What’s that supposed to mean? Do you remember how it ended—when she ended it?”  
Garth called up the stairs. “Rose, are you really running out on us now?”  
“You’re almost out of toilet paper,” was her reply. The toilet flushed and they heard water run upstairs. She was hurrying; her boots clomped on the floor. If Dean knew Rose at all, she’d be leaving a fantastic, watery mess for whoever used the bathroom after her. A little bit of him fantasized about running up after her now, throwing open the door, and demanding that she deny what could only be the impossible: was there some beef with her and Cas?   
Someone knocked at the front door. Dean and Sam stood.   
“Really, boys, can you please sit?” Bess whispered. “I don’t want this to turn into a big fight.”  
Dean snapped back at her, “Who said anything about fighting? I’m completely calm.”  
Sam scoffed, “Yeah, you’re the Dalai Lama.”   
“Who?”  
Garth pulled open the front door. “Well, isn’t this nice.” His voice was strained. “Castiel is here.”   
Cas stood in the doorway. “What’s going on? Is she still here?”   
Dean glanced over at Sam, then back at his best friend. “For the moment; she wants to run out.” Dean grimaced again. “Something about a stalker?”  
Cas cocked his head to the side. “Can I come in?”  
“Of course, Cas, sorry.” Garth pulled in the screen so that Cas could walk inside. Cas’ eyes razed over the room. Like Rose, he didn’t seem to perceive anything specific; he just pruned away what he didn’t want to see. Dean could practically feel Cas glossing over him and Sam. He hadn’t looked upward at the ceiling, where she was, but it was only a matter of time.   
“Bess and I wanted everyone to please sit.” Garth’s eyes were little daggers in their direction. “We have important family things to discuss, okay?” Garth put a hand on Sam’s shoulder and pushed him gently in the direction of the table. “Now, I know that family is kind of a tough subject with all of you—together, at least for now—but let’s just all just sit and relax and we can discuss everything before you all run for the exits.” He tried to physically bring Dean over too, but Dean was already moving back to the table.  
Sam and Dean sat, but they both looked up at Cas as they did so. Cas finally glanced up at the ceiling. She was oddly quiet.   
“Cas,” Dean tried to think of the right thing to say to him. Cas was distracted: now that he had figured out that Rose was a flight of stairs above them he felt compelled to look up every few seconds for the mere confirmation that Rose Kline was not that far away. Dean had been the jittery one for a while now. Maybe, he hadn’t noticed how Cas was worried about Rose too. “Dude, are you using your X-ray vision or something? ‘Cause they ceiling ain’t that thin.”   
Cas started and crossed his arms. “I’ll sit, sorry.” He cast one more look at the floor above before sitting down next to Dean; his leg shook.   
Dean kicked him under the table.  
“What?”  
“Stop it. You’re making the whole thing shake.”   
Bess cleared her throat and looked meaningfully at Cas. “Castiel, would you like something to eat?”  
Cas looked away from the ceiling and frowned. “I thought that you and Garth were aware of my celestial nature and the fact that I don’t eat.” He glanced at Dean. “Is it impolite to refuse food?”  
Dean rolled his eyes. “Brother, you are all sorts of impolite.”  
“No, no, sweetie, it’s fine.” She clasped her hands together and sat back down. The empty plate that she held in her hand she put to the side near Sam. “Garth, don’t you think we’d better talk before Rose runs off?”  
“Huh?” Garth stood at the bottom of the stairs. He leaned on the railing and stared up the darkened steps. “Sure thing, honey,”   
Bess cleared her throat again. “Garth, I said I think that we should tell them.” Dean glanced over at her to see that she had a napkin balled up in her fist. She was one disruption away from going full wolf in the presence. That was something he did not was to see.  
“We’d love to hear it.” Sam had his FBI voice out. He even had his hands folded in front of his plate. The only clue that he wasn’t in the mood for any of Bess’ wackadoodle news was a glance up above of his own.   
Bess sighed. “It’s just so hard to talk when she’s running around all over the place. I think it’s all because of what happened to her sister; isn’t the anniversary of that coming up?” She looked over at Cas as if it was his fault. “Castiel, do you know why she’s decided to run off all of the sudden?” She followed Cas’ gaze up to the ceiling. “Garth!” she yelled out to her husband. “Go and see if she’s okay up there.”   
As if on cue, Dean heard the bathroom door creak open. She must have been going slowly, because each of her footfalls squeaked long and loud every time. He could hear her breathe, as creepy as that sounded. She must have been nervous. He tried to picture her feeling her way down the dark staircase. Rose must have dreaded what was down on their level. Dean glanced over at Cas, who was back to shaking his leg. The nerdy guy was weirder than usual.   
Finally, Rose had made her way down to the bottom of the landing.  
* * *  
She was hurt.   
A red and black bruise had blossomed over her left eye, rendering it almost shut. It looked puffy and soft. If Castiel decided to brush the pad of his finger over it then he might have felt it like a flower petal. Although he had seen most of earth throughout its history from its first day, there had never been a flower in existence that could have matched his Rosemary Kline.  
Except, the damning fact of the matter was that Rosemary wasn’t his or his responsibility, at least not directly; for, he could follow her around the country and put himself in between her and harm’s way, but he could not change her mind. Free will in Rosemary was never so damaging.  
“What happened?” His chair scraped on the floor loudly as he stood up to go near her. She seemed to wilt away from his question. Rosemary swung her untethered arm from her side fingering her keys.   
“Hey, Cas,” the bravado in her voice was enough to make him incoherent with worry. “Fancy seein’ you here.” She encircled one key and tightened her fist around it. There was a cut on her lip that grew bigger when she smiled.  
He moved around the table and she mirrored his movements toward the door. He could feel the room’s eyes on them, but he only had time for Rosemary, the girl with the flower petal eyes. He closed the distance between them with ease and she stopped moving long enough for him to try and touch her. She moved away.  
“Cas,” she swallowed and tried to avoid his gaze, but he tilted her face upwards to look at him. There was a slit of frosty white underneath her petal lid that widened when he did this; her breath caught, and he had her completely for a millisecond. Dean cleared his throat and they shuffled dutifully away from each other. “I’m okay.”  
“No, you’re not.” Anger flashed again into his mind. “Would it kill you to pick up your phone?”  
Rosemary looked down. “I’ve been really busy.”  
“Doing what?” Each of her bruises seemed to mock him. He could count them all off on one hand, but they still drove little holes of anger into his gut. Three things were wrong with her; there were three things that could have been prevented if she would have just picked up her phone.  
She looked back at the table. When her eyes fell upon Dean she grimaced and looked away from all of them. “I’ve been hunting.”  
“Hunting what?” Talking to her took nearly all of his patience.  
“Vampires,” Dean chirped from the table. “Wonder Woman here can take on multiple vamps all by herself. Didn’t you hear, Cas? You being her stalker and all?”  
Cas closed his eyes. Of course Dean would react like that. Rosemary wouldn’t have told him that they spent so much time together. It must have been Garth’s wife—she was always meddling in their lives. He ignored Dean’s comment. “Alone?”  
“No. I had help.” Her voice turned into a weak protest. “I was knee deep in a stakeout. I’m sorry that I didn’t get your call.”  
“I called you three times.”  
“No you didn’t.” She was back with the bravado. “I texted you on Thursday,” she reached into her pocket with her good hand and tried to pull out her phone.   
Her movements were so pathetic that his anger intensified. “If you weren’t alone, then what happened?”  
She glanced down at her arm. “Shit happens, Castiel. Stuff,” she closed her eyes. “Sorry, Bess, stuff.” He always loved it when she said his name, but now it felt like mockery.   
“How many were there? Four?” Dean called from the table. Rosemary closed her eye.  
“Sure.” She swallowed and opened her eyes to look at Castiel. She was so small with the petal-like eye and the torn up arm. “I didn’t know they’d be here…” Her voice trailed away. Again, Rosemary looked panicked at the prospect of turning around and seeing the Winchesters behind her. For the first time that night, Castiel was annoyed that their friends were here too. A part of him wanted to sweep her into his arms and heal every mark on her body that he could touch, while the better half of him wanted to know who what where when and why she looked like hell.  
“It was a nest.” Her voice was small. “Nine vamps left, so a pretty small nest by the time I got there. I was with another hunter and this psychic kid we met in town who had a real gift for figuring out where the vamps would be when.” She swung her arm at her side again, but her tone was all business. “No more vamps, and no more hunter. His funeral’s tomorrow. So, I’d better get going before I get too tired to see.” Her face paled like snow. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you.” She nodded at Garth and Bess. “I’m really sorry. Christmas, my house, capice?” She nodded at Sam, but couldn’t look at Dean. Castiel couldn’t really blame her.  
“Nine vampires is what you call small, Rose?” Sam getting angry at something was enough fuel for Dean to start yelling at her too. “Are you serious?”  
“If you couldn’t call Cas, why didn’t you call us? Or call Garth at least, if you’re still pissed at us.”  
“You,” Sam cut in and Dean rolled his eyes,  
“Fine, if you’re still pissed at me.”  
She closed her eyes and seemed to steady herself. “I wasn’t ignoring people on purpose. It took Cole two weeks to kill the first half of the nest. The rest weren’t too keen on joining the fallen.” She rubbed a spot on her slung up forearm and winced when her hand tightened around whatever was there.   
“Cole who?” Dean looked at Sam, eyes wide. “Not Cole Trenton?”  
Rosemary looked up, surprised but exhausted. “Why, did you know him?” When Dean nodded she groaned into her hand. “Of course you did.”   
“How did he die?” Sam was subdued, but still affected by what happened.   
Rosemary couldn’t look at him. “Bloody—and like a hunter. If he wouldn’t have tried to save us…” Her voice trailed away again and she bit her lip. “He had a kid, and a wife,” She shook her head. “What more can I say? Without him, I would be dead.” Her face was screwed up, but she kept her composure. “The funeral is tomorrow at nine.” She looked up at Garth and Bess, “I’m really sorry for this. I’ll see you,” She turned to peek out the front door. “Cas, you’re parked behind me.”   
“We’re pregnant!” Bess blurted. “That’s all that we wanted to tell you, Rose, I’m pregnant.” For some reason Bess was crying, but she was still smiling in an odd, jubilant way.  
Rose turned around slowly. “Pregnant?” She looked confused. “Wow, Bess, that’s great.” A smile grew on her face. She stuck her keys in her pocket and walked over to Bess. Rose still smiled all the way over. Castiel watched her pass Sam without another look and wrap Bess in a hug with her good arm. “When did you know?”  
Bess was still smiling-and-crying simultaneously. “Garth knew. Out of the blue, he said that we should check and we got the test and we’re going to have a baby.” She laid her hand over her flat stomach. “Now that we’ve passed the first trimester, the doctor thinks it’s okay to tell people.” She beamed at her husband. “Garth almost gave it away when the boys were here. Poor guy had to drink my whiskey for me.”  
Garth smiled bashfully, “I’d drink a whole bottle if it’d make my Bess happy.” Thankfully, Garth wasn’t crying, but his grin was big like his wife’s. “Gosh, it was so hard keeping it a secret from y’all. Bess and I wanted to make it a surprise, but it was still so hard.” He smiled at Rose. “You almost guessed it a few weeks ago, before you left for your hunt. That ‘pregnant pause’ you were talking about when you told us about your uncle. Bess and I were certain that you almost figured it out.”   
Rose grimaced and waited for the explosion from Dean.  
“Uncle?” Dean was more tired than annoyed. “You just like burning every bridge in one go, don’t you?”  
Rose wrapped Garth in a hug too. “Garth Fitzgerald the fourth, the father-to-be…I didn’t think you had it in you, Garth.” She clapped him on the shoulder and tried to grin. “Of course you did. I can’t think of a finer set of parents.” She smiled back at Bess. “I can find a whole bunch of baby stuff if you all need anything. I think my cousin’s finally stopped getting pregnant every nine months, so I might be able to rustle up a crib and some provisions from her.”   
Bess was still crying. She sniffed, “That’s awful sweet of you, Rose, but we already got some of my family to pitch in and get us everything that we need. Your prayers are quite appreciated if you’ll remember us that way.”  
Dean rolled his eyes at Sam, but Rosemary kept a straight face. She hardly flinched. “Okay, Bess. Will do.” Her voice was light and airy. She could be any kind of girl if he were to close his eyes. Maybe she could have eve n been an angel. Castiel hated it.  
Rose was halfway towards Castiel and the door when she turned around, brandishing her keys. “So help me, Garth, you’d better not pull anything stupid when naming the thing, alright? If I hear any talk like you used to, I’ma kill you slowly and rename the kid. No ‘Maybelline’ and please, for the love of all that is holy, no ‘Archibald’. I had a sour stomach all day after you told me that.” She smiled at Bess. “That’s all I’ll say about that. Keep safe, Bess. Bye, Garth.” She rolled up her keys back into her good fist. “I’ll call you when I get there.”  
Bess had finally stopped crying. “Good girl, Rose. Love you.” She wrapped her arm around her husband’s waist. “And don’t forget to pull over if you feel drowsy, okay?”  
Rosemary nodded. “Goodbye.” She looked at Castiel for a moment. “You ready?”  
Dean stood up at the other end of the table. “Well, if Madame here is leaving, we’d better get on the road too.” There was no light in his eyes, no spark of life that Castiel had always used to recognize Dean Winchester, even when times had grown dark and cold.   
Dean turned to Garth and Bess to shake their hands. “Congratulations, guys. You’ll going to make great parents.” He was lying. “Come on, Sam, let’s escort the lovebirds out.”  
Sam seemed slightly embarrassed on behalf of his older brother, and he shook Garth and Bess’s hands with a corresponding ‘I’m sorry’ look on his face. “Congratulations,” He murmured, and grabbed his jacket off of the back of his chair.  
Castiel glanced at the table; none of the guests had dented the amount of food on their plates. Garth and Bess Fitzgerald seemed not to care. Their smiles were easy as they waved the Winchesters, an angel, and the flower-eyed girl out of their home.


End file.
